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“Apparently, you fainted just outside my bedroom.”
A cold wash of memory slapped her in the face, and she gasped.
“What is it, princess?” He was watching her face carefully, trying to assess how much she had overheard of his conversation.
In a fraction of a second Alex decided not to let him know that she had heard. He had enough to concern himself with, without worrying about her as well. She needed time to think, to plan her strategy. It never occurred to her not to get involved; this was Drake’s life, and she would protect it with her own.
She smiled weakly. “I suppose it is the excitement of the day—first the party and now your accident.” She took a deep breath and sat up. “I’m fine … really I am. I was just on my way to make sure you were all right.”
He studied her face carefully. She was so pale. It worried him. He stroked his thumbs across her cheeks. “These have been difficult months for you, haven’t they, princess?” The tenderness in his voice was so real that Alex found it hard to remember when he had called her by that name in mockery of her way of life.
“They’ve been difficult for all of us,” she answered lightly, standing up. The room was still wobbling a bit, and she blinked to stabilize it.
Drake caught hold of her arms. “I think you should take your own advice, princess.”
“What advice?”
“I want you to lie down and rest until dinner.”
“But our guests …” she protested.
“You will have plenty of time to entertain our guests this evening.” Alex knew that firm tone, just as she knew it would be useless to argue. Besides, she needed time alone to sort out everything she had just learned.
She nodded meekly. “Very well. I will go to my chambers.”
“I will send Molly up at once,” Smitty announced, hurrying out the door.
Drake wrapped his right arm around her waist and guided her to the door. “I’ll take you to your room.” He led her across the hall.
“It’s really not necessary, Drake.”
“Humor me,” he answered, drawing Alex into her room. “I will feel better knowing you are safe in your bed.”
He stayed with her until a clucking Molly scurried in to prepare her mistress for a nap. She gaped at the duke’s half-naked state, turning several shades of pink and red.
“I’ll let you rest now,” Drake told Alex quietly, his eyes twinkling at Molly’s predicament.
Alex nodded and yawned, suddenly overwhelmed by sleepiness.
Drake grinned. “Sweet dreams, princess.” He walked toward the door.
Alex stared at his retreating back; the corded muscles that rippled across his broad bare shoulders, the powerful thighs that were emphasized by his buff riding breeches. A flood of feeling washed over her as she realized how close she had come to losing him.
How much she loved him.
“Drake … ?” She didn’t realize she had said his n
ame aloud until he turned to give her a questioning look. Without a word she went to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pressed her forehead against his strong chest.
“Princess?” He lifted his hand to stroke her hair. She knew she wasn’t making any sense to him, but it didn’t matter. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, that she needed him, that they would resolve their problems. But Molly was standing just behind her, muttering disapprovingly under her breath. Now was not the time.
Alex raised her face to look up at him. “Are you certain you are not badly hurt?” she whispered. He gave her a slow, devastating smile, then leaned over and touched his lips lightly to hers. “Get some rest, sweetheart,” he murmured, for her ears alone. “Later tonight, when our guests are all asleep, I’ll show you just how totally I’ve recovered.”
She smiled back until the door closed behind him. Then she allowed her mind to begin working, trying to solve the terrifying puzzle of who wanted Drake dead.
When Molly had gone, Alex lay down, fighting the sudden need for sleep that tugged insistently at her body. She had to think this through … to determine who was behind the attempts on Drake’s life.
Anyone could have tampered with the gunpowder. There was no way to narrow down the possibilities. She frowned, forcing her eyes to remain open. But the saddle … Very few people had access to the stables. She refused to consider the servants. Never had she seen a more loyal and dedicated group of employees, not even at Sudsbury. That left the guests … and the family. The family was more preposterous than the servants; so that left the guests.
